


The Way

by SomewhereApart



Category: CSI: Miami
Genre: Drabbles, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-17
Updated: 2014-07-16
Packaged: 2018-02-09 05:36:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1970904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomewhereApart/pseuds/SomewhereApart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of mostly unrelated drabbles about the things Eric loves about Calleigh Duquesne. Ratings range from G to M/MA, depending on the chapter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Space

Eric loves the way she occupies space. She isn't built to take up much, but it still strikes him as odd this morning when she mentions how happy she is to have found her favorite store's new "petite" section. She's never struck him as petite. As small. No, Calleigh is large and in charge, commanding respect wherever she goes. It's in the way she stands, the way she speaks, the way she stares you down. She way she holds a gun. It never occurred to him until now that maybe it was her way of compensating her lack of height.


	2. Tears

Eric loves the way she cries on his shoulder. He shouldn't, he thinks. There must be something wrong with that. But he can't help but love the way she rests her head against him and lets him coddle her just a little. Calleigh is so strong, always so strong, never willing to be cared for or fussed over. So he can't help the small surge of pride when she dismisses the fierce battalion that guards her heart and lets herself be vulnerable with him. It hasn't escaped his notice that she doesn't seem to be that way with anyone else.


	3. Undone

Eric loves the way she comes undone when he teases her breasts. Fingers, lips, tongue, teeth. It doesn't matter. Anything he does makes her breath go ragged, makes her bite down on her lower lip and swallow down soft, heated moans. If he riles her long enough, her hips arch against him, and she loses the fight against the sounds of pleasure caught in her throat. She gasps, breathy and indulgent. Her fingers clutch the back of his head, holding him to her as she begins to babble.

"Oh God, yes."

"Like that?"

"Eric, _please_."

"Yeah?"

"Don't stop!"

He doesn't.

 


	4. Murmur

Eric loves the way she talks as she falls asleep. They're curled up on the couch, her body tucked snugly against his, legs tangled, her head pillowed on his arm. She's had a long day, and she's tired, but she's still thinking about the case, and the slow shut-down of her brain has left her murmuring to him. How stupid, she says, that the killer thought they wouldn't catch her if she tossed the evidence in the garage trash bin. Her voice is slow, slurred and sleepy, and he can tell without looking that her eyes are already closed.


End file.
